FrUking Annoying
by I-ain't-kawaii
Summary: It's the middle of a World Meeting and England is feeling annoyed and awkward. At least more annoyed and awkward than usual. Damn that Frenchman...


He's been staring at me. The. Entire. Meeting. The urge to look back at him is excruciating, but I know if I look over now I'll only be greeted by that smug look of his.

So far I've given in and glanced at him four times, and there is no way I'm going to give him the satisfaction of getting my attention a fifth time. Although, in truth, he's had my attention the entire meeting… But how the bloody hell am I supposed to be focused on the garbage spewing is from that hamburger bastard's mouth when I'm being violated by that frog's eyes?!

Damn it! I looked at him again! Immediately I jerk my head away from his direction and look down at the papers in front of me. I can feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so I tilt my head in a way that my hair covers my face. Curse my fair skin. I'm sure my cheeks are as red as that Frenchman's rose. And by rose I mean the flower, of course, not the other connotation, which would be his, ah, well…'vital regions'… Gah, gentlemen don't think about those things! Men in general don't think of those things! And I, being a proper British gentleman, emphasis on man, am not, in any way shape or form, thinking about the Frenchman's – nopenopenope!

Okay, calm yourself, Kirkland. Yes, keep calm and carry on. You are a well-mannered and educated man, and you will not have your thoughts be dominated by such perverse things! And perverse things about _France_ at that! Heaven only knows what _he's_ thinking about me. I bet he's got some awful fantasy playing through his head right now where I'm in some disgustingly indecent situation. What could he be thinking about me? Am I in a French maid dress? Wearing cat ears? Considering this is France I'm talking about I doubt I'm wearing anything at all in his mind. And surely he's some kind of prince charming in this twisted daydream. Grr, I'll be damned if that idiot ever sweeps me off my feet. Prince charming, pfft, more like frog prince!

I can't help but let a small smile grow on my lips. Heheh, frog prince… I can be so clever sometimes.

Leaning back in my rather uncomfortable plastic chair I begin to relax a bit. I'm over the momentary embarrassment of being caught looking at France by now. Still, despite being able to calm my nerves slightly, I can't help but feel a sense of unease. Does he have any idea how distressing it is to be locked under his gaze like this? If he's trying to flatter me it's not working! None of his attempts to seduce me work! Can I even call what he does seduction? Seducing me would imply that I'm somehow attracted by it and not utterly disgusted! Those so-called pick-up lines of his for example, who in his right mind could be turned on by those? _That suit is very becoming of you, Angleterre. Of course, if I were on you I'd be coming too. _Or _Arthur, how about you sit on my lap and we talk about the first thing that 'pops up', non? _Arrrrghh, that dirty-minded idiot!

Sad to say, those pick-up lines aren't the worst of it. Those are at least verbal and not, guh, - I can't help but shiver at the thought - _physical_. I mean, how many times will it take me threatening to cut off his hand before he stops groping my arse?! And I don't even want to recall that surprise 'visit to the Eiffel Tower' I went through last week. That's something I would definitely be better off forgetting. Though I must admit, the 'Eiffel Tower' is a fairly - ahem- impressive structure. Not that I was staring at it or anything! All I'm trying to say is that credit should be given where it's due and, well, is was certainly due…

"-san? England-san? Excuse me, England-san!"

Huh? Ah bullocks, someone's talking to me.

"Uh, yes Japan?"

How long as he been trying to get my attention?

"England-san, are you feeling alright? You don't look very well. Your face completely red and you have been looking very distant all meeting."

"What, oh, em, that's nothing."

"Are you sure, Englan-"

"Yes yes, all good! I was just - ah - pondering over something very thoroughly was all, ha ha."

"Hmm, well, maybe you'd like to share with us what exactly you were pondering over, non Angleterre?"

And then for the first time in the history of World Meetings, everyone was focused. And to my great misfortune, focused on me.

This should get interesting. Especially when I jump across the table and strangle that frog to death.


End file.
